Waiting to Wait...

It's that time of year again. That time when I am left anxious with anticipation to determine how the next few months will go. Will I be able to start planning for summer vacation? Will I finish working through the school year? Will I still have hair in the next few weeks? Did the cancer come back? Where did it metastasize to now? My mind has been overflowing with unanswered questions for the past month, just waiting for this scan to hear the results, while continuing to keep up with our day-to-day lives as a family of four with two young kids.

I have to say, I've always considered myself to be a pretty positive, upbeat, glass-half-full kind of girl. Even when I was a kid, I always felt the need to cheer people up and keep smiling. As an adult, not much has changed. I tend to have a smile on my face regardless of how my day is going and can't help but greet people with a big "Hi, how are you!?" whether I know them or not. People think I'm crazy always having such high energy all the time. Someone actually recently asked me how I do it and if I'm always this bubbly all the time. I was kind of taken aback. No one has ever asked me this before but the truth is, I literally cant help it. I like to be happy, as I would imagine most people do, and it brings me happiness to make other people smile. It feels good to interact with positive people so if I can flip someone's day around with just a smile or lighten the mood with a silly joke or a quirky dance move, I'm going to do it! People take life too seriously sometimes and it's too easy to get lost in the ebb and flow of the work grind and stresses of everyday life. Sometimes we need a reminder that it's okay to have a little fun while we do it!

I'm constantly being told how strong and positive I am, especially since my diagnosis. It's what you tell people with cancer, right? You're so strong. You're such a warrior. Stay positive. Don't get me wrong, it's honestly a wonderful compliment and these words can definitely help drive me to want to keep kicking cancers ass. I strive to be strong and positive because I dont want people to feel sorry for me. That would mean that cancer won and I'm not even dead yet! (calm down, we're all going to die some day...) I will do my damndest to never let cancer control my life or take the pep out of my step, but some days are just plain hard. It can be exhausting for anyone to be sunshine and rainbows everyday, but as a woman with metastatic breast cancer, with people expecting you to be strong and positive all the time, sometimes it just sucks. Sometimes you just need to give in to your emotions and fucking cry. Physically ridding yourself of the negativity and taking a deep breath can be so cathartic for me to move forward, take control of what I can and let go of the rest.

For the past few weeks, I have been having some extreme tightness in my left arm. At first I thought it was cording, which is a common side effect after lymph node removal where scar tissue builds up creating what feels like a cord running up your arm. I also noticed that the same arm was feeling achy and weak. Initially, the discomfort would come and go, then it became more permanent. I started doubting the cording and thought maybe it was lymphedema, another side effect after lymph node removal where your arm swells due to improper drainage. I only had four nodes removed though and there really wasn't any noticeable swelling, but I'll hope for the best - there I go again, positive Sarah... But it wasnt going away, so obviously I regrettably turned to Google.

When I was originally diagnosed with bone mets, it was a complete shock. I had no bone pain or any other symptoms to suggest metastases to my spine. If this cancer spreads again, I will honestly have no reference to know what to feel for. I began googling in an attempt to answer my neverending questions, and I started to worry. Yes, even the peppy and positive girl you see everyday gets scared. More and more questions start to flow...Could this be bone mets? Brain mets? Maybe a tumor in my spine is compressing my spinal cord sending this pain down my arm? I find myself falling deeper and deeper into this rabbit hole. I had a PET scan done in August and that was clear, could it be much different already? My next scan was scheduled for Febraury 14th (how romantic...) could I wait that long for results? I tried to make my mind stop. "Sarah, calm down. You've never been this much of a hypochondriac. It's probably nothing!" But what if it was something? Last time I had a serious symptom, I brushed it off assuming it was nothing and it ended up being stage IV breast cancer. How do you come back from that? Let me tell you, you don't. My mind was racing and it wasn't about to stop.

I had an appointment last Monday, and I brought up the strange symptoms. My nurse contacted my APRN who suggested lymphedema, but when I asked about bone mets, she said she could order an xray to be sure. In the middle of putting it all into the computer, she ran into my oncologist and told her about the situation. In comes Dr. T, the most badass woman I've ever met. This woman knows what she is doing and tells it like it is without sugar coating anything which is what I love about her. Everytime I see this her, with the slightest butterflies in my stomach, I just feel content and I know I'm in good hands. She sits down next to me and has me go through my symptoms again. In her nonchalant way, she simply says, "Let's push up the PET to this week and then we can see what's going on". Cue the water works. I actually wanted this to happen just to ease my mind, but the fact that she suggested it before I could even ask made it all the more real. I was scared and I couldn't hide it anymore. She reassured me that she didn't think it was bone mets but we were doing the scan just to be sure. My PET was scheduled four days later.

I was relieved to know that something was being done about my arm and I'd have some answers soon, but not soon enough. I swear I blame Amazon Prime for my impatience! I continued my work week as normal to keep my mind off of it all, but as soon as any down time hit, so did my anxiety. Luckily there's always ice cream to help, but even then I didnt feel much better! Friday rolled around, but my appointment wasnt until 6:30pm. My mom met up with me at UConn to wait with me which was nice since I got there early and they ended up taking me in late of course...

They called my name and the man escorted me outside to the mobile PET unit. Not many hospitals have their own PET scan, so this one goes around to different hospitals to allow people the opportunity to utilize the scan without the cost of having their own. Anyways, we step onto the handicap lift outside the unit in blistery cold New England. He opens the door where we step inside the trailer which wasn't much warmer. Two female techs were sitting in front of computer monitors right in front of us, two recliners were set up behind a door to the right of us, and the PET scan was through the door to the left. The guy has me sit in one of the recliners, checks my glucose level (after fasting since 11am) and attempts to make small talk about the super bowl...sorry, guy, not a big football fan. He ties an orange, stretchy tie around my right upper arm and taps to find a vein. With one quick poke of a needle, we're in. Then, he reached inside a big, silver container with a big, yellow radioactive sticker on it and took out a smaller silver cylinder. Inside is the radioactive tracer that he injects into my arm. While I wait for my super powers to kick in, I lay back in my recliner with no stimulation for 45 minutes. The tech shut off the lights, gave me a blanket, and I am left to relax as much as possible while the tracer makes it's way through my body.

After my 45 minutes is up, I walk to the other side of the trailer to the PET scan. I lay down on the bed of the machine, prop my legs up with a cushion, and they cover me with more blankets. If nurses and techs know how to do one thing, its keep you warm with plenty of blankets! I put my arms above my head and they start the scan. The bed I am laying on begins to rise. Then it slowly goes back and forth, stopping and going, through the machine several times. After about 30 minutes of losing all feeling in my arms and hands, I'm finally done and able to scratch the itch I had on my nose since minute 7! They hand me a paper reminding me to flush my radioactive pee twice when using the bathroom and to avoid close contact with young children for the next 24 hours.....oh, okay....

Now begins the waiting game. Last time, my scan was done Friday morning and results were sent to me that night. This left me to irrationally think I'd actually get results Saturday. Well, Saturday came and went, nothing. Sunday then came and went, still nothing. Are they waiting to tell me in person? Did they find something and need to explain it so they didn't send it to my app? I had another appointment scheduled Monday anyways, are they waiting until then? What is going on!?

I drove to work Monday morning knowing this day was going to go one of two ways. I could either get good news and carry on as if nothing happened, or I could get dreadful news and my life would flip upside down yet again. I finished my last round of tough chemo one day short of one year ago. Was I seriously about to start that up again? I called and spoke with a receptionist who said a nurse would call me back shortly. The nurse called back and informed me that they hadn't even processed the report yet so they will call me back as soon as they hear anything. SERIOUSLY!? More waiting?? How am I supposed to function at work? I could go home but what would that do? This waiting is excruciating! I walk in to see my co-workers and I just start bawling. I wasn't looking for them to do or say anything. All I needed was a safe place to release all of these emotions. The frustration. The fear. The sadness. The anger. I had come to the point after all of this waiting that I was expecting the cancer to be back. When I was first diagnosed, it may sound crazy, but I felt better off accepting that I had cancer before getting the official word. My mantra since then has been to plan for the worst and hope for the best. This time it was no different. I had to prepare myself for this to be cancer again. It might just be some swelling and an easy fix, but it very well might be something more and I just needed to accept that. Of course I'm going to hope that its not, but I just wasn't sure this time.

I brushed away my tears, got a few hugs, and the kids started coming in to start our day. I checked my phone when I could, but still no word. Checked again, nothing...nothing...Wait. I hold my breath and see theres a voicemail. I stepped out of the room and went up to the teachers lounge. I pressed play and put my phone up to my ear while plugging my other ear to be sure I hear every word. It was my oncologist's voice. Oh no, does this mean bad news?

"Hey Sarah, I'm leaving this message because it was a perfect scan. No evidence of any activity...Great news."

And exhale.

Move Mountains

Lately, I've been looking for inspiration. Something to help guide me with my thoughts and help wrap my head around the waves of events in my life. One moment its rough waters knocking me over with white caps, barely catching a breath. The next moment, rays of sun peak through the clouds and the once thrashing water becomes calm again. I can see the reflection of myself and the world around me, continuing on as it always has while I was being tossed around under sea level.

Since May, I've been watching this reflection of me. Waiting for the clouds to brew another storm. Fighting the fear with a smile while the voice in the back of my head is whispering something I cant quite grasp. I'm waiting for them to shout a warning for another storm but so far it's been too quiet.

I'm starting to get used to the calm waters. It's nice being able to enjoy life with my loved ones without much worry. Theres still a slight chance I could be knocked under the tide, but for now, I will embrace the serenity.

The anxiety started to kick up again just this past week as I anticipated my 6-month PET scan. This would be my first scan since completing active treatment. It was a big one. This would tell me if all that nonsense of Chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation was worth it.

Although I appreciate all the prayers people have been saying for me, I've never been the most religious person. I will say, though, that I believe in signs. My PET scan happened to fall on the 12th anniversary of my dear friend, Alyssa's, death. She was only 16 years old, I had just turned 17, when she was taken away from us in a car accident. I will forever credit that grief and that instant dose of reality for teaching me to live each moment to its fullest because you don't know which one will be your last.

The fact that this scan fell on the anniversary of such a life-changing moment told me right away it was all going to be alright. I believe Alyssa was with me that day. Maybe it's just to ease my own mind, but maybe she was there to remind me that this experience and this diagnosis was to prove yet again the 'life is short but sweet for certain'.

I was emailed results that evening. I read through it seeing the words, "No foci of abnormally increased radio tracer uptake...No suspicious foci of thoracic FDG activity...No suspicious foci of FDG activity within abdomen and pelvis...No evidence for FDG avid malignancy". If I was reading this correctly, no sign of cancer was showing up on the scan. I was just diagnosed with invasive stage IV breast cancer 10 months ago. I must be reading this wrong. Let me wait with cautious optimism to confirm the results on Monday...

Monday comes along and I have infusion at 8am. This infusion is much different than it once was. I barely have any side effects from my meds now and I'm in and out within 3 hours! I mention my scan to my nurse, inquiring about the results, so she calls over to my doctor. Shortly after, another nurse comes in with a print out of my results, the same results that were emailed to me Friday evening. She told me the results looked great and that my scan came back clear. I was right. Just as quickly as my life flipped upside down in October, its flipped rightside up again.

With this kind of news, you'd think I'd be jumping up and down with excitement! Honestly, though, I dont know how I feel about it. Just 10 months ago, I was told I had an incurable disease. I feared for my life and didnt know how long I had to live. I feared for my husband's and my kids' lives, how they would be effected by all of this and how they would manage if I died. Now, I get handed a piece of paper saying that my scan was clear and there is no sign of active cancer inside me. Was this whole thing just a cruel joke? It seems to me like the waves of life are a little confused.

It's a tricky position to be in. I'm being told my scan is clear but I'm not in remission. I will never be in remission until we find a cure. You see, the scans can only pick up so much and chances are there are micro-metastases that are dormant, waiting to wake up. Perhaps these micro-metastases are what's behind the little voice in the back of my head. I'm just hoping they'll yell loud enough to give me enough time to prepare for the next storm.

I can be given the clear scan results and feel happy about it, but theres always a 'but'. We dont see anything active, but theres no sure way to determine if you're cured...Theres also the 'survivors guilt' that is all too real. I have met many other breasties since my diagnosis and connected with so many brave and beautiful women. Some are diagnosed stage IV as I am. Some of these women are responding well to treatment while others are not. As I move through the process of treatment and experience my own path, I can't help but think of all these women. Everyone is different and every cancer is different. What worked for me doesn't always work for others. This is not because they aren't strong or brave or they don't wear enough pink. If anything, they are stronger because they've had to put up with more of this shit than anyone! Yeah, sometimes being called a fighter or warrior is empowering, but I didn't get the results I did because of my strength. Those whose bodies don't respond well to treatment and are on their 5th clinical trial arent in this position because they are weak. It is honestly luck of the draw and trial & error. Sure, studies show certain combinations of drugs work best on certain cancers but it's not guaranteed. Cancer sucks and while I am grateful I dont need to start up chemo again, I hesitate getting too excited because I know  I very well may have to start up again soon enough. I also know some pretty badass women who are really struggling with their treatment. That's not okay. Breast cancer and curing breast cancer is not just about wearing pink to support it. We need funding and research to put an end to this bullshit!

Lately, I've been looking for inspiration on how to put these feelings I've been having into words. Then, I came across this Breasties notebook: "Move Mountains". What am I supposed to do with this experience? I am well and I have been told my life just got extended much longer than it was just a few months ago. Now what? I will never get back to living the life I used to live and I am okay with that! I am here to do so much more. I will be the voice and I will share my journey to anyone who wants to hear it.

"Tell the story of the mountain you climbed. Your words could be a page in someone else's survival guide"

I am here.
I am alive.
I am a breast cancer thriver.
I am here to move mountains for ALL of my sisters.
My first line of treatment worked for me.
I am one of the lucky ones.
I am grateful.
I am going to do anything I can to fight for my sisters.
I am with you.
I am holding your hand through it all no matter what waves come your way.
You are not alone.

Radiate Positivity

Life has been pretty calm these days, which is kind of nice for a change! I am in the middle of radiation treatments right now, but they have become so routine that I can carry out a fairly regular life in the meantime. Everyday from April 8th thru May 16th, Monday-Friday, I am expected to be at Uconn to intentionally expose my body to direct radiation with hopes of destroying any remaining cancer cells within my chest wall and spine. Radiation is a targeted therapy so any side effects, like redness or soreness, are usually restricted to just the areas being radiated. However, I have definitely noticed some fatigue encompassing my entire body over the last week. This fatigue is different than how I felt after chemotherapy, though. Rather than waking up barely able to move, now I am just completely beat by dinner time as if I hadn't slept in ages. I am also noticing some nausea since the radiation is also being targeted at my L1 vertebrae which is right near my stomach. I am officially halfway done at this point, though, so I am starting to see the light!

At the end of March, I went in for a simulation radiation appointment. I was a bit nervous, but more-so excited to see what radiation was all about. I feel as if it is the one part of treatment that never gets any light shed on it, and yet it is probably more time consuming than anything else! I sat in the waiting room of radiation oncology just weeks after my double mastectomy. The room was long and bright with a friendly woman sitting at the desk, a Keurig waiting to be brewed, and commercials for dietary suggestions on the television. I was waiting just a couple of minutes when a woman about my age with dark shoulder-length hair came up to me and said "Sarah?" I nodded and smiled. "You can come with me." We walked and talked down the hallway as she described what I would do each time I came in. I received a plastic card with my name, a list of phone numbers, and a barcode on it - talk about VIP treatment! Rather than checking in at the desk, I was to come in, scan my card, and head right back to the changing room...where I would be greeted with a red carpet, wine, cheese, and a massage...Plot twist! 😝 Just kidding! Instead, I was to walk back, change into my Radiant Wrap (pictured below - check them out on instagram please!), barely wait any more than 5 minutes, and my girl, Jill, would escort me to the big radiation room.

The simulation room was set up very similar to the actual room I'd be getting treatment in. The day of my simulation, I neglected to bring along my Radiant Wrap, so I changed into an oh-so flattering hospital gown and was led into a large room with what looked like a CT scan in the middle of it. I lay down on the bed, pulled the gown down to my waist, and struggled as I put my arms up in the red stirrups they put above my head - I definitely I had some more stretching to do after surgery! The techs were so nice, though, and understood all that I went through just weeks before. They tucked some washcloths under my elbows which helped tremendously since this was going to be the position I needed to be in for treatment to my chest wall. The difficult part about treatment like this is that they don't want to damage my heart or lungs! In order to avoid any issues, I needed to control my breathing through my chest and expand it as wide as possible while holding it for the duration of each treatment. To ensure that this is done correctly, they gave me VR glasses that shows a bar graph with a box at the top. There was a sensor attached to the ceiling that measured how far I was expanding my chest when I inhaled. The wider my chest grew, the further up the bar would go. My goal was to get the bar within the box. If at any point during treatment I coughed or the bar went outside of the box, the machine would shut down and we'd start again for safety reasons. It is actually a pretty neat concept! While I was getting scanned, everyone else left the room and they spoke to me through an intercom to tell me when to breathe. "Take a deep breath in and hold..." I would hold it for a few seconds, "And breathe out".

To make sure that I was lined up correctly on the machine, lasers pointed down on me and I got 8 tattoo dots where the lasers hit my skin. Once I began treatment, they also marked other areas with sharpies and stickers. I'm a real museum now, when you add all the paint and markers my kids get on me, too! 😹 After lining me up for my chest wall, they then needed to reposition me for my spine. I got up off the table and the techs took off certain equipment and put down a flat board with pegs for my hands to hold. Then, they took out this special contraption that reminded me of one of those vacuum bags you use to store a dresser worth of clothes under your bed...I know you've at least seen the infomercial! Well, we needed to be sure that I was especially still, because we don't want to radiate my spinal cord, so I sat on this vacuum bag and it conformed to the shape of my bottom and the curve of my back. Once I was situated, they scanned me to make sure everything looked straight and I was good to go!....every day...Monday thru Friday....for 6 weeks. Joy.

My first day of treatment was a couple weeks later. On my daughter's fourth birthday, April 8th, I went in for a practice round. That morning, my sister and I took our kids to a trampoline park to burn some energy, celebrate L's big day, and to get my mind off of my appointment that afternoon. My husband got home at 2:30pm, we had a quick kiss in the driveway, and I hopped in my car to make it to Uconn in time for 3:00pm! (Another reason I am so glad I live close my oncology center - I don't have to worry about childcare!) I made it there with little traffic, parked in the garage, and power-walked my way to radiation oncology on the first floor. I whipped out my fancy VIP card, scanned in like a pro, and walked down to my changing room, complete with four lockers, a bench, a mirror, but no wine OR cheese. Damn. HOWEVER, instead of donning a typical hospital gown, I brought along my generously gifted Radiant Wrap and I was the fanciest patient in there! I continue to get compliments everyday and it has been working out perfectly!

The same girls who did my simulation were there to bring me in. The room looked almost identical to the simulation room I was in just weeks before, and the props were already set up for me to climb onto. Since it was just a practice round, they took 'films' or x-rays to make sure everything looked right, threw on some stickers, changed my positioning, and scanned my spine alignment. Everything looked good and I was ready to start treatment the next day. I will receive a total of 28 treatments to my chest wall and 25 treatments to my spine. Every other day, they put a large square of  thick, skin like material called a bolus on my chest. This tricks the machine to radiate my chest wall at different depths to target the treatment the right way. Most days go pretty smoothly and I can be in and out within 30 minutes or so, but other days take longer if they need to take x-rays or if they're having trouble aligning me correctly. The time goes by pretty quickly, especially when they remember to play my Shania Twain station request on Pandora! 😉

After my practice round, I met with my radiation oncologist and his nurse to go over some products to use to minimize any side effects. I had already done a ton of research on what to expect before beginning radiation, but it was nice to hear what they had to say went along with what I had read. The number one rule when undergoing radiation is to avoid using any skin products with any fragrance in them! Your body wash, soap, and lotions should all be fragrance-free! If there is any type of fragrance left on your skin, the rays will burn it right up and you do NOT want that. My skin is already turning red, so I would hate to see how much worse it would be if I did not switch to fragrance-free. It's also important to avoid any lotions 4-hours prior to treatment and to wipe off any deodorant before treatment as well. I have made the switch to using natural deodorant anyways, so the nurse said that should be okay to use since it does not contain aluminum. Aquaphor is another popular product patients use right after treatment or before bed. It tends to stain clothes, though, so I have been wearing camis under any shirts I don't want to ruin. Another product that has been recommended to me that I like to use at night is called Skin Soother from Etsy (check out my Products page). It is all natural and works really well to improve any redness.

I am officially at the halfway point of my radiation treatment.

14 treatments done.
14 days of driving back and forth to the hospital.
14 days of rubbing lotion, Aquaphor, and Skin Soother on my body.
14 days of baring my scarred chest to strangers.
14 days of interrupting my family's afternoon.
14 days of giving this cancer a sucker punch to the fucking face with hopes of never having to deal with it again!

I am so very close to being done with the active part of my treatment. Although this will be a HUGE milestone, it is still very bittersweet for me because I know I am still in it for the long haul. After radiation is over, I will continue to receive infusion every 3 weeks, zoladex/xgeva shots every 4 weeks, follow-up with my oncologist every 3 months, and get PET scans every 6 months. Back in October, I had a hard time envisioning what my life would look like at this point, but overall I am pretty damn happy.

Flat AF!

Well, I did it! Just about 3 weeks ago I had my bilateral mastectomy and, despite the way I envisioned it, I am alive to tell my story! Before going in, I was terrified about the aftermath. Not so much about how I was going to look (I got over that pretty quickly), but how I was going to feel. I truly thought I was going to be in bed for weeks, not able to move, and in agonizing pain. Much to my amazement, I have been recovering SO much better than I ever thought I would.

This step has been different than the chemo part of treatment. With chemo, I felt like crap for about a week, then I'd feel better for a bit, have infusion again, and continue the roller coaster ride. After surgery, the only direction I was going was up. Each day felt better and better, and I could move more and more. It was frustrating not being able to drive or shower, hold my kids or reach things in the cupboards, but my range of motion improved everyday! I am so very grateful at how quickly I've bounced back!

Now, let me take you back to the morning of surgery...

I had to be at the hospital for 9am Tuesday, March 5th. We dropped the kids off at Grammy's the night before (thanks Mom!) so my husband and I were actually able to have a quiet dinner together and get a decent sleep despite the anticipation of a surgeon slicing me open the next day! Of course, I also had to fast beforehand. It was only from midnight the night before, but whenever anyone tells me that I can't eat, I feel as if I'm lost on a deserted island scrounging for food and all I can find is fucking tree bark. I may be exaggerating, but the fasting might have seriously been the hardest part.

So my husband brought me in for 9am. We checked in with the nurse, the hubby made sure he knew where the cafeteria was 😜, and we waited for them to call my name. When they brought us in, they gave me my oh-so flattering one-size-fits-all gown to wear with matching gripper socks. I was ready to rock and roll! Just kidding, I laid in bed for about an hour and a half, stomach growling while meeting different nurses, residents, my surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and signed a bunch of papers. Before they could wheel me into the OR, I had to go upstairs for the first part of my sentinel node biopsy. A radiologist injected a special blue dye into my breast that spread to my sentinel nodes, staining them bright blue so the surgeon knew where they were once I was opened up. Once she was in there, she would be able to remove them one by one and pass them on to the pathologist who was in the OR with us. Based on the pathology of each node, they could determine how far out they needed to go. This initial biopsy was a quick, painless procedure, and before I knew it I was on my way back downstairs. Shortly after my little field trip, they gave me a happy drug that felt like a couple glasses of wine. After this, it gets a little blurry (maybe it was more than a couple glasses??). I remember being in the OR with a ton of people around and they injected a nerve block into my arm that was actually quite painful! It only lasted a couple seconds, then before I knew it I was awake and in the recovery room being told that everything went well while i stuffed my face with chicken fingers and fries! Yum!

I'm not speaking for my husband when I say this, but I actually ended up sleeping pretty well that first night, all things considered. I mean, I probably would've slept better if they didn't keep checking my vitals and if they didn't give me a good wake up call at 6am with a team of about 10 doctors all staring at my unwashed face, but it's all good. Even soon after waking up from surgery, though, I was moving my arms more than I thought that I would be and I felt well enough to get up to use the bathroom - which BY THE WAY remember that blue dye they injected into me?? Yeah, my pee was bright blue for at least 24 hours! Crazy! Anyways, that next day, my surgeon came to visit me and we discussed the pathology of the lymph nodes and breast tissue. She told me that she removed a total of four nodes. The first two had micro-metastases so she removed a third one that came back clear! Just to be safe, she took out one more which was also clear so she was comfortable enough to stop there, YAY! As for the breast tissue, she said that there were some scattered, non-invasive cells but this was MUCH better than my initial diagnosis of 12cm of invasive cancer cells!! The cells that were remaining were not of too much concern, especially because she did everything she could to remove it all anyways. Not only did this report show some good news, but I was feeling just as good! This next day, I was slowly, but surely walking around that hospital floor struttin' my stuff. I had on this fancy, pink, floral, stretchy tube top along with some sweatpants, a hospital gown, and some new accessories hanging out of my sides - the infamous drains!

At home with my new "accessories"

I guess fasting wasn't so awful after all...those 'pain-drains' were definitely worse. I had one on either side of me. Picture a thin tube sticking out of my ribs with a little bulb at the ends collecting excess fluid my body was producing after surgery. Blech! Just thinking about them makes me quiver! They weren't so much painful as they were annoying and in the way. I didn't want to move too quickly in fear that they would get snagged on something and pull out. Showering was not going to happen because I get light-headed with things like that, but even taking a sponge bath was miserable! I couldn't even wear more than a couple different shirts, because the bulbs wouldn't fit... For over a week I was a hot, stinky mess! There are several companies that make accommodating shirts, though, that have pockets for the drains and button up nicely to make it easier to slip on and off. Lanyards and drain belts are also easy enough to find to get you through the couple weeks with drains (check out the Products I Love section above⬆). As with everything else I've been going through, I kept reminding myself that this was all temporary and they would be removed soon. Oh my, but once they were gone, I felt like a new woman! I had no idea that the majority of my discomfort was from those damn drains! Thank goodness I only had them in for 8 days. They were the longest 8 days of my life, but some people have them in for 2 or 3 weeks! No fun.

Drains are gone 8 days post-op!

I ended up staying in the hospital for 2 nights. As much as I missed being home with my children, I knew that once I was discharged, I would feel like I needed to do more than I should, and I was worried about the kids jumping on me. We made it home Thursday, and I was pleased to find that I was able to get into bed comfortably! Some people need to sleep in a recliner for a month before being comfortable enough to get in their beds, but with my pillows positioned just right (including my wonderful u-shaped pillow I mentioned in my last post!!) and scooting myself around like a dog, circling the perfect spot to lay down in, it was perfect. After coming home, a visiting nurse came to check on me once a week. She checked my vitals, monitored how my incisions were healing and what my drains were producing. At first I didn't think I would need a visiting nurse, but for a quick visit, it's reassuring to have a professional look me over and be there to answer any questions that came up before I followed up with my doctor.

Now, I am happy to say that my pillows are back to normal, I can wear pretty much my entire wardrobe, and I am feeling human again! I usually sleep on my back anyways, which was convenient, but every once in a while now, when I want to lay on my side, I can! At 3 weeks, with the help of lots of stretching and some yoga, I can reach my arms above my head and get things out of the cupboard on my own again! Even at the 2 week mark, I felt comfortable enough to be at home by myself with the kids, drive, and even run! I ran 3 miles two days in a row, which is back to what I ran just before surgery! It feels so good to get my body back and exercise simply because I CAN! Looking at my life right now, I don't think I will ever take advantage of this body that I have. We have one body to live in for the rest of our lives, it is up to us how we decide to use it.

For anyone reading this who has a mastectomy in their future, just know that there is a light and each of these steps is temporary. You will get better and you will get your life back! However, some people do not bounce back so quickly. I am young and I like to think of myself as a pretty active person. These things definitely help with recovering from anything, but I also opted for a less extensive surgery. If I had chosen to do reconstruction right away, my story would be completely different. I think that getting my butt back to the gym between chemo and surgery was the BEST thing I could have done. I built up my strength and got into a rhythm that I knew I wanted to get back to. My Livestrong program at the YMCA was my incentive to get moving again after surgery, even if it was just to walk on the treadmill. It got me out of the house and allowed me to pencil something into the calendar for myself that wasn't a doctors appointment! I am so relieved I only had to take one week off from the program. My team helped me out with the transportation for a bit, but it felt so good to be back. Sadly, I am almost at the end of my 12-week mark with Livestrong, but that will be a post for a different day...

Boob-Voyage!

It has been 36 days since my last chemo and roughly 25 days of feeling well enough to really enjoy the world around me. It has been absolutely wonderful waking up each day knowing that my hair is starting to grow back, my appetite is getting back to normal, and my energy is back to where it once was. I joined the Livestrong program at my local YMCA back in January, and I am finally feeling like my strength is where it once was! I've been running again (despite the way the DREAD-mill makes my shins feel) and I actually made it to 3 miles last week! I was so proud of myself! There are 7 other people in my Livestrong group, and twice a week we meet up at the gym with our trainers to regain the strength, endurance, and confidence we all once had. It's nice because we all can relate to each other with our current or past cancer diagnoses, but it doesn't end up being the center of our attention. We are more focused on escaping the poor realities of cancer, creating lasting relationships, and working hard for ourselves! Unfortunately, I will need to miss these next few weeks as I undergo a bilateral mastectomy tomorrow and phase into the recovery stage of this part of my treatment. I am determined to head back to the gym, but I also recognize that I cannot push myself too hard too fast through this difficult step. I want to heal the best I can, so I will begin by walking and avoiding any lifting or reaching over my head, then progress when my body is ready and my doctors give me the go-ahead.

I described my thought process about my upcoming surgery in a previous post, but since then I have decided to take a different route that I should probably touch base on. Originally, I was planning on doing reconstruction at the time of my mastectomy with expanders and implants. I was told that this could be difficult with radiation coming up after surgery, but I figured I'd give it a shot. However, I met with my plastic surgeon two weeks ago to go over any questions I had and to review what my options were. Maybe I was going in more open-minded or maybe my surgeon was more clear about it all this time, but she seemed quite concerned about any risk that could possibly postpone my radiation. Yes, the expander/implant procedure at the time of my mastectomy could work smoothly, but with my small frame, there may not be as much 'cushion' to support them, which poses a risk for open wounds and needing to go back in for more surgery before radiation could even begin. Adding the step of reconstruction simply means a more extensive surgery, meaning more risk for infection, as well. We really just want to avoid any possible complications and ensure that we can begin radiation as quickly as possible! Ultimately, we worked together to decide that delaying reconstruction would be my safest decision. The reality is, I have a metastatic disease and I need to focus on saving my LIFE before saving my BOOBS!

I was having a hard time deciding on a plan for reconstruction before that appointment. Nothing was really settling well with me and I just wasn't happy with any path I chose. I think I was feeling forced to make a decision about reconstruction while still grappling with the fact that I have metastatic breast cancer that I need to take care of! The whole process was feeling rushed, but as soon as I left that meeting with my plastic surgeon and decided to delay reconstruction altogether, it was as if a HUGE weight was lifted off my chest (no pun intended!) I knew I had made the right decision. I had told so many people of my plan for immediate reconstruction, but I wasn't concerned about that. It's OKAY that I changed my mind. This is my life we are talking about and I don't care how many different directions I spin in, I am doing everything I possibly can to make sure I end up in the right place. For now, I can focus on getting rid of this cancer and then, I can worry about the way I look when I am ready. One step at a time.

Now that I made a decision on the type of surgery I would be getting, I also had to figure out what I needed to have in the house for myself during the time I am in recovery! I was told time and time again that pillows are KEY! Pillows for under my seat belt, under my arms, across my chest, in my bed, on the couch, everywhere! Some people mentioned getting a wedge, or a 'husband' pillow, but I was gifted a U-shape body pillow from a friend I know who went through a similar procedure that I am going to try. I'll update you on how it goes! I also needed to think about what to wear...and unfortunately it won't be my fancy blue jumpsuit (please refer to my NYFW post from last month)! I will not be able to lift my arms much, so I stocked up on button-up tops and zip-ups to easily slide on. I was told camisoles are good, too, if you can step into them and slide them up. For the first few weeks, I will have drains for excess fluid that comes with having this type of surgery, so I also needed to consider how to manage these. I've seen different products out there to help like lanyards, shirts with pouches inside them, and little belts you tie around your waist. Lucky for me, I follow a page on Instagram (@breastinpeace_) that promotes different products people all over the US are willing to donate that they've used during their mastectomies. I commented on one of their posts that included a drain belt, a hospital gown, a button up t-shirt, a tote bag, and a bracelet, and received it within a week! It was perfect! I didn't want to spend so much money for something so temporary. I am also very fortunate to have a local friend who went through this treatment process not too long ago and is also willing to pass along her favorite products that saved her during this step!

With all of the stress and planning that goes into the mastectomy phase of treatment, it's been kind of nice to enjoy this 'time off' with my family and friends. Since my last chemo over a month ago, I have had one infusion of Herceptin/Perjeta that lasted just 2.5 hours with zero side effects! Unfortunately, there's no wiggle room with the timing of this treatment, so I will need to go back for another round less than a week after my mastectomy...joy. I also received my first Zoladex shot just to the left of my belly button that puts my body into menopause and ensures that I do not produce any estrogen to fuel this ER+ fire. This also gave me very little side effects besides hot flashes, acne, no period, and no chance of pregnancy. Oddly enough, outside of these visits, I feel as if I'm cancer free! It's nice to feel somewhat normal again, but it's quite the reality check that behind all of these 'normal' days and big smiles, is a mind thinking about mastectomies and radiation, and a young woman's body still fighting off cancer.

As I get closer and closer to my surgery date, I am becoming more and more anxious about it. Last week, I was quite confident and not worrying about it at all, though. My mind was focusing on surprising my mom for her 60th birthday and getting ready to celebrate my "Boob-Voyage" party that my friends had been planning at Hooters. That's right, a party at Hooter's to give a final farewell to my boobs! I have some pretty kick-ass friends! It was such a fun girls night filled with lots of smiles and laughter, Passion Fruit cocktails with proceeds donated to breast cancer research, a DIY photo booth, and an incredible boob cake! I am so grateful to have so many wonderful women in my life that are ready to celebrate every chance we can get! We stick by each other and lift each other up during difficult times, and it truly makes this crazy life so much easier! This is the kind of tribe everyone needs!

So, it's finally here. Tomorrow is the day I go in for my bilateral mastectomy. As nervous as I am, I am so ready to get this thing over with so I can begin the recovery phase! I keep telling myself that this is all just temporary. I will be sore and this will be painful, but this too shall pass. I have warned my kids that Mommy may not be able to play with you like she usually does but everything will be back to normal before we know it! I am so grateful for my family and friends who have shown their support and offered anything and everything to make this recovery process go as smoothly as possible! I honestly don't know what I would do without such kind people in my life. Let's do this thing!

Living My Breast Life

I often agree with people when they say social media has ruined the way we interact with each other. We are too entranced by our phones that we rarely look up to see the world around us. We would rather scroll through pictures of someone else's adventure than make our own, and we've lost that irreplaceable connection you have with someone when you talk to them face-to-face. When you're hidden behind a keyboard, you can be anyone you want to be and say anything you want to say, no matter how cruel. You don't have to deal with the reaction of the person on the other end, unless a reaction is what you are looking for. On the other hand, not everyone on the internet is an offending muggle! Some people use social media for good. They can be who they want to be and say what they want to say to get the word out about something IMPORTANT!

As most of you know, October is breast cancer awareness month. Luckily for me, I was diagnosed with breast cancer October 2nd. So, while I was wearing endless hospital gowns, being poked by needles, getting drilled into my spine, waiting for biopsy results, crying in front of strangers, and questioning how long I have left to live, I got to see pink balloons and breast cancer awareness signs literally everywhere I went. It was haunting. We are all AWARE that breast cancer exists. Most of us have seen the commercials on TV, walked miles in pink t-shirts, and changed our profile pictures on Facebook to support those of us dealing with the disease, but the problem is that we stop there. We are raising money, but where does that money actually go? To the pink shirts, bracelets, and pins we wear? To the huge events held to promote awareness? To the CEOs of these foundations? I am definitely not saying we should stop walking or forget about the awareness aspect completely. Awareness is important and still very much needed! However, breast cancer is more than just a pink ribbon and, sometimes, it's easy to forget that.

Shortly after I was diagnosed, I did a little search to see what different organizations there are to support people like me. I quickly found that there are literally countless groups around the country who do amazing things for breast cancer patients, it's astounding! I found some of these organizations on Instagram and have been able to learn so much from them (just one of the perks of social media)! One of these groups using social media for support is an organization called Metavivor. Ever heard of it? Me either, until just recently...Metavivor is a non-profit dedicated to increasing awareness specifically to metastatic breast cancer, which is is the only breast cancer that KILLS. They are also the only organization to donate 100% of its proceeds to metastatic breast cancer research! Honestly, now that we are AWARE of this deadly disease, lets put some money into finding a CURE! We have all heard of the American Cancer Society and Susan G. Komen, why did I have to wait until after my diagnosis to learn about Metavivor?

Through Metavivor's Instagram page, I have been able to connect to people all over the country who have been diagnosed with breast cancer, but more specifically metastatic breast cancer. I can relate to them and they understand what I am going through more than anyone! I can ask strangers questions about their experiences and get advice from them about how to make a certain decision or what products to use throughout the different stages of treatment. On Instagram, it has also been nice because everything is through pictures and videos. I can literally see the side effects they're describing and watch their hair growth after chemo! I can also prepare myself for what my mastectomy will look like or how sore and red my chest will get after radiation. It is such a supportive community that no one ever wants to be a part of...

Last month, I started seeing people share posts about Metavivor teaming up with Ana Ono Intimates (intimate apparel dedicated to women who have undergone mastectomies and/or radiation) during New York Fashion Week! All of the models for the show were diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer and 100% of the proceeds would be donated to Metavivor and put towards research! Of course I had dreams of attending, but our budget is tight with me not working right now, and I couldn't justify the cost of a trip into the city and a ticket to fashion week. About a week before the show, they shared that people sponsored enough tickets to the show that MBC patients could send in their information for a chance to be added to their guest list at no cost! I sent in my name and email and was notified a couple days later that I was chosen to join the once in a lifetime experience! I quickly reached out to a couple of my friends who spontaneously decided to come along with one question - "What do we wear!?"

The picture above is of me in my fabulous royal blue jumpsuit I found at Marshalls for $25, minus a $15 gift card, for a grand total of $10!! Jack-freaking-pot! The color was perfect, because I truly felt like ROYALTY! My friends and I took a surprisingly smooth drive into NYC, parked in a nearby garage, and found the venue quite easily (once we put the right address into the GPS! 😝) The doors to the Angel Orensanz Foundation opened at noon, and we walked right in no problem! After checking in, and our 2-hour car ride, we blindly rushed to the extremely tiny ladies room to freshen up. When we walked back out, we were in absolute amazement at how beautiful this place was! Angel Orensanz is an old synagogue built in 1849, that has since been renovated and is now used for private events, fundraisers, concerts, and fashion shows. Not only did the architecture and lighting catch our eye, but the strong and powerful faces of the people walking around us stopped me in my tracks. I was truly amazed and felt so comfortable being in such a large space filled with people just like me. To call it empowering is an understatement.

After snapping a couple pictures, we made our way upstairs to the balcony where they had a nice brunch spread out for everyone to enjoy, and a fancy "red carpet" to take more photos on (see above!) We spent some time up there laughing, chatting, eating, and drinking...I even found some Instagram followers who I had connected with before, which was really pretty neat! We went back downstairs to claim our spot and ended up meeting some other people while we waited for the show to start. One woman was a survivor, and there was a man there whose wife was one of the models! He shared her story and it was as if he was talking about me - under 40, toddler at home, recently diagnosed de novo (stage IV at first diagnosis) with bone mets. I knew we had to connect and, sure enough, social media came through for us again! We've been following each other for just a couple weeks now but we already have plans to meet up and have a play date for the kiddos!

Just after 1 o'clock, a man came on the stage to open the show. He also had metastatic breast cancer, which is yet another reminder that men need to check themselves too! He gave us two numbers: 40,000 - the number of people who die from breast cancer each year, and 113 - the number of people who die each day from MBC. What a way to set the tone. These numbers are not only too high, but truthfully, these numbers should not even exist! As he finished his speech, the crowd of people in that room roared for his bravery and we all knew we were in for a phenomenal show! Before the models  came out, a gorgeous voice took the mic and sang a moving song she wrote just for us. As her song ended, the speakers shook the room with songs like "I'm Every Woman" by Whitney Houston, "Run the World" by Beyonce, and "PYT" by Michael Jackson. We couldn't help but dance, shout, and cheer on the strong women who took the stage in front of us! It was unforgettable. Women of all ages, shapes, colors, and sizes strutted their stuff that day and gave us all the encouragement we needed to not only be comfortable in our own skin, but to also see what Ana Ono Intimates looks like on REAL women who NEED them. These women have these bras and underwear in their drawers at home because they are so very comfortable, yes, AND because their bodies have undergone things you wouldn't believe! This wasn't just an ordinary fashion show, though. This was a movement, a call for CHANGE! These women modeled off gorgeous apparel while also sending important messages to everyone...

Words like "I AM LIVING" "NOT JUST ONE" "METASTATIC AF" "1 in 3" "FIERCE" "MOTHER" "FEARLESS" and "SAVE US" were also walking that cat walk. There is more than just one person living with this incurable disease. Sadly, but truthfully, we are an army! Let's just say, Metavivor and Ana Ono really got their message across. Simply stated, it's time for a change....it's time for a CURE!

Once the fashion show was over, we walked out of that building new women. My friends that came with me may not have MBC, but all three of us were changed after that experience. It wasn't just a cancer reality check, but it made me rethink how I live my life. I'm going to focus more on living in the moment rather than worrying about my future. There's no time for that. Right now, we need to lift each other up and do what we can to get everyone to live their longest and absolute BEST lives every day. What can we do today to better our tomorrows? 

I have received so many compliments on how "strong" and "positive" I have been since my diagnosis last October. I find myself questioning how authentic these comments are, though, because isn't that just what you say to people with cancer? Then people assure me that it is when I share a picture of me smiling or enjoying an event like this on social media that tells them that they can have a good time and enjoy their life, too, no matter what is thrown at them! Let me tell you, not once did I ever think that I would be diagnosed with a terminal illness. Not once did I think I would ever need chemotherapy or a bilateral mastectomy. Sure I have my down days like anyone does, but NOT ONCE did this cancer ever keep me from smiling or laughing or enjoying special moments with friends and family. I will keep laughing until the day I die, and I will post proof of my smile everyday if I have to, even if it's just to smack cancer in the face one more time!

Trust Your Intuition

Well, that's a wrap! My sixth and final chemo treatment has come and gone! One part of me is relieved AF, the other part of me isn't even phased. You see, I'm done with the "chemo" part - the dreadful uneasiness in my stomach, the extreme fatigue, the poor taste in my mouth, and hopefully the uncomfortable GI issues (💩)...but in another three weeks, I'll be back in the same chair, with the same nurse (who I LOVE), hooked up to the same IV. I may not be getting the complete 4-serving cocktail, but I will still be back in the hospital every three weeks, indefinitely.

My cancer spread to my bone before I found it. Everyone always says 'Early detection saves lives!' and 'Good thing you caught it early!' but the truth of the matter is, I didn't. Yes, I could've caught it even later. Yes, it could have spread even more than it did. But reality is reality, and my reality is that my cancer metastasized before we even started treating it...and I can't help but feeling somewhat guilty for that. Now, I'm left driving to Uconn every third Monday while putting Lidocaine on my chest, hoping to numb the pain of the needle poking my skin, and crossing my fingers that the nurse gets a blood return on the first try. I'm left in auto-pilot taking the elevator to the fourth floor, checking in with my name and date of birth, and telling the receptionist that, no, I have not been out of the country in the last 30 days, but damn I WISH!

I may not be going out of the country anytime soon, but I am going to seriously take advantage of this short month we call February! I am planning on seeing as many people and doing as many things as I possibly can, because as soon as March rolls around, it's surgery time. I don't know about you, but just the thought of surgery and slicing my skin open makes my stomach turn! The recovery might be less time than the duration of my chemo, but I hate thinking about the pain I will be in and the way my children will react when I can't hug them or hold them in my arms. I have been trying to plan ahead and reorganize our life to make it as easy as possible to deal with my limited mobility and strength. Right now, my kids are getting to be at a good age where I don't need to worry about carrying them as much. They are 2 and almost 4, so they are definitely getting to be more independent. My 2 year old, T, is still in diapers, but I figured when I need to change him, he can just lay on the floor or climb on the bed. We, also, just switched him out of his crib and into a toddler bed, so I won't have to worry about lifting him for nap time. The only other time I would need to pick him up would be getting into his carseat, but I won't be driving for a while anyways, so someone will always be with me to help with that. So I'm set right?? Wrong. These are my children. They are 2 and 3. They fall down, they get upset, they fight, they struggle. They need their mother and someone there to give a hug and kiss a boo-boo every once in a while! It's going to be difficult, and I know that. I also know that I have so much support around me to help when I need it. I have a husband who is planning on sacrificing his paycheck on our already tight budget to support his family the first few weeks after surgery. I have a mom and dad who live close by and are retired, willing to do anything they can to make this cancer disappear. I have two sisters, near and far, who would do anything to help in an instant. I have in-laws who have already shown so much love and encouragement. I have aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, friends, and the list goes on. Now, more than ever, is my time to stow away my pride and accept the help as it is offered. I have already been overwhelmed with the support I have received from people, some of whom I don't even know, and it is comforting to know that you all still have my back. For this, I will be forever grateful.

Now my mind shifts to the logistics of what March 5th will bring. I have been following some other blogs and doing my research online to try to navigate between the different types of surgeries there are. In my search, I learned that most people who have metastatic breast cancer don't actually get a mastectomy at all. Apparently, the reasoning is that once the cancer has spread, there is no added benefit to removing the breasts. To anyone else, a mastectomy is supposed to prevent any leftover cancer cells left inside the breast from spreading to the rest of the body, but to a patient with metastatic disease, the damage is already done. In my case, however, I am young, the cancer has only metastasized to a small part of my spine, and there hasn't been any damage to the bone. My oncology team and I are determined to treat my cancer for cure no matter who says it is incurable. We are treating this like any other breast cancer case and I am confident that my breast surgeon will remove any remnants of cancer there is.

I have opted for a double mastectomy while removing both nipples and most lymph nodes on my left side and under my collar bone. I have met with my breast surgeon, who is the same woman that did my port placement, and we are both on the same page. It is a big surgery, but it is also very routine in this field, so I am not too concerned for the success of the actual procedure. More of my concern comes from the reconstruction side of things. Some women opt out of reconstruction, but, for me, I feel as though I need this added step to feel more comfortable in my own skin once everything is said and done. There are so many different routes you can take to make you feel "normal", but I need to just accept that no matter what I do, I will never get my body back to being as perfectly imperfect as it once was. It's amazing how no one ever thinks their body is perfect until you are forced to deconstruct it and mold it again. A woman's true beauty is in her imperfections, and you'll never quite get it just right. Perhaps I'll need to embrace this notion even more post-op....

After meeting with my breast surgeon, I met with a plastic surgeon who will be doing the reconstruction part of it all. Before meeting with her, I did some solid research to get an idea of what different options their were. Between implant reconstruction and autologous reconstruction, LAT flap, TRAM flap, DIEP flap, over the muscle, under the muscle... I still had no idea what to do! One big concern was that I would be doing radiation after my surgery. Radiation tends to make your skin super tight and makes it much more difficult to work with when considering reconstruction, especially with implants since the goal with that would be to stretch the skin beforehand. Since I would be getting radiation on my back, we decided that a LAT flap was not the best option - this is where you take skin, fat, and muscle from your back to create a new breast. A TRAM flap would take skin, fat, and muscle from my abdomen, but not only would it leave a huge scar, it would also be very difficult to recover from since we use our abdominal muscles so much every day! I did considered doing a DIEP flap, and my PS said I would be a good candidate as well. This would only take skin and fat from my abdominal area, but after examining me, we weren't convinced I would be happy with the results since I am fairly slim. She said I could potentially take tissue from other areas that are more fatty, like my thigh or buttocks, but I still don't feel quite comfortable with the recovery of something like that. I ultimately decided to go for expanders and implants. With an implant surgery, it is pretty likely that they will have to go back in to replace them over time, and there may be issues of my body rejecting the implant altogether, but my gut is telling me that this is the path I should take for now.

The plan is that in the same surgery, once my breast surgeon is done with the mastectomy, the plastic surgeon will go in and put expanders under my pectoral muscle. Every week or so, I will go in to have them injected with saline until they are expanded to how I would like them (don't worry, I won't turn into another Dolly or Pamela!) After they are fully expanded, I will complete radiation (TBD) and have a final surgery to swap the expanders out for the implants. Although radiation may effect the outcome of this type of reconstruction, I decided that I would rather try an "easier" surgery first before slicing my whole body open and moving more things around than I need to. I understand that this may not work as well as I hope, and I may have to go back to get things fixed, but if I have learned anything from this journey so far, it is to trust my intuition. I have never been one to make decisions easily, and this is not an easy decision for anyone, but it is my life, my body, and ultimately my decision on how to move forward. I am becoming more confident in this path I have chosen, but I am ready to take on any other obstacles I may face along the way. Wish me luck!

Cancer - Check!

Just a couple months ago, I thought I had a mediocre life. I was getting bored. I wanted everyday to be an adventure. I was sick of the day-in and day-out of wiping noses, ABC's, grocery shopping, and eating the same damn things for dinner. What I really wanted was a change in scenery. Maybe moving to a different state would solve all of these problems? Nah, I doubt it.

I guess you could say I get bored easily. My life wasn't really that uneventful, I'm just that oddball who actually likes change. I like the excitement of doing new things and creating new experiences with people! For several years, my life naturally brought new things to be excited about. I married my husband in 2013, just a year after graduating college. It was a beautiful, outdoor ceremony in July with all of our friends and family surrounding us under tall pine trees. Just a day after our honeymoon, we bought a little ranch-style house in a quiet neighborhood just next door to the town where I grew up. That year, we also adopted Cooper, our loud, always hungry, licking and sniffing Beagle! About a year after that, we found out we were having our first baby. I know every woman has her own thing to say about pregnancy, but I absolutely loved it! Those 9 months were so magical for me, and in 2015, our little girl was born (talk about life-changer!) Just before L's first birthday, we found out I was pregnant yet again! This time, it was a baby boy, and in 2016, T joined our family to add even more excitement!

Since then, it's been doing all we can to pay our bills, get rid of debt, and maintain our house, while creating the best possible childhoods for our kids. My husband and I have had quite the adventure so far, and rattling off these HUGE life events right now makes my life sound more exciting than I ever even realized! All I ever paid attention to was the lack of huge life events for the past 2 years...(wow, Sarah...calm down). I mean, how many life changing events does a single person even need to have in their lifetime? We were hoping to add a third child to our list, but I guess cancer is another life-changer!

I'm really not trying to be depressing when I say that, either... I am literally laughing as I am typing this right now. I wanted an exciting life thats ever-changing, and I am getting it that's for sure! Anyone want to direct my real-life movie?? Can Julia Roberts please play my character? I love her.

You're right, that's a whole other topic for a separate blog...

I guess what I am saying is 'be careful what you wish for'. We scroll through social media everyday seeing everyone's best life. Then, when other people share that their life is in shambles, we roll our eyes that they're complaining. We see these perfect snapshots of single moments in people's lives, but this is not their life all the time! No one wants to see a picture of you at work...(unless you're Mike Rowe or Ellen or something)...and no one wants a snapchat video of them nuking chicken nuggets for the third night in a row...(actually, I'm pretty sure someone's probably done that before, but that's besides the point!)We see the best sides of people's lives on social media because that's what we want to see! Yet, if all we do is compare our own lives to these unrealistic glimpses into other lives, sure we're going to be left wanting more for ourselves. In reality, though, the grass is not always greener.

I used to want an exciting life, something worth writing a blog about, and I sure as hell got it, but it comes with a price. Lately, I've been missing my boring life with nothing written on my calendar. Now, my days are filled with doctor's appointments and everything else is tentative depending on whether or not I can get up off the couch. Now, I wish I could go back to eating the same damn things for dinner instead of everything tasting weird or hurting my mouth when I chew. Luckily, I have been able to manage a pretty normal life for the second 10 days after treatment. It's on these days that I can go out with the kids on my own, run errands, take L to school, and save the relaxing until their nap-time. After each chemo, I countdown the days until I can do these things. I am actually looking forward to grocery shop! Sometimes, I'll even park further away so I can walk more, simply because I have the energy to!

Life before my diagnosis was almost like a checklist. I experienced all of these amazing things, but always rushed through them, eager to check off the next life event. Cancer has been my one life-altering event that you would think would be the one I'd want to rush through to get it over with, but instead it's convinced me to slow down. I can't look too far ahead or else I end up just scaring myself. Instead, I've learned to take everything one day at a time and truly embrace those boring days when I feel like myself again. It's days like these that keep me grounded and remind me of the life I used to live. They encourage me that I will once again have my life back and under control after all is said and done. This is a long process I am going through, but it is all temporary. In the meantime, I will keep living each day as it comes, just hoping for a day to simply run errands.

Behind the Locked Door

My husband and kids are in the kitchen. Lunch is served. Mouths are fed. I say nothing.

The bathroom door shuts behind me and I lock the door. Deep breath in...I turn the shower on and close my eyes for a second. I need this. I don't need to explain, I need a break. I need to be alone without interruption. My eyes open, and I see a girl in the mirror. I'm starting to recognize this girl - weak, bald, pale. I've seen her enough times before that I'm starting to forget what she used to look like. She takes off her shirt, pants, underwear...The rest of her body is just as ghostly, besides the constellation of freckles scattered all over her. The skin around her eyes are dark, making her look even more tired than she is. The hair that once covered her is no longer there like it used to be. There is a scar just below her collar bone, a new scar that reminds me of the truth. Stretch marks, goosebumps, tears watering her eyes. I used to see someone else staring back at me. I used to be more patient. I used to want to sit with my kids during lunch. I never locked the door. Now, I am torn. I want to soak up every moment, while also wanting to run as far away as possible. I want to smile more than ever, but scream just as much. Nothing is how it used to be, and I don't think it will ever go back.

I turn around and gently step over the tub and into the shower. The water is hot as it hits my body, running down my stomach and legs. I put my face in my hands and walk into the stream, trying to wipe away any fears and worries I had just moments before. The water hits my neck now as I turn and it slowly makes its way to the top of my head. My eyes are closed and I slowly circle my head around like someone not knowing which way to go. The muscles inside me are tight. I can hear them screaming as I massage them with soap, one by one. They need to stretch and move, but are too weak to even help me stand. I crouch my way down to the floor - much better.

My knees are now to my chin and my eyes are forced shut by the water rushing down my face. I sit there at peace, almost meditating to the echoing sound of the spout and the drain. Minutes pass by and the rain above me turns into a puddle. Water fills the tub around me as I lay back with paralyzed limbs and a cold head as it reaches the tile. I turn on my side ever so slightly until the buoyancy eases the pain of my tailbone sinking into the porcelain. The water slowly rises while my toes are left out in the cold. I should turn the water off, but that would require much more of me and I might hear the tantrum reality outside the locked door. I keep the water running a bit longer.

I now start to notice little dots. They are almost microscopic, on my arms and hands. Was this where hair used to sprout? These spots now show another reminder of the truth. I decide to turn off the water, then quickly return to the warm bath that I so needed. I lay there in solitude, just breathing in peace. I hear the faint murmur of life outside the curtain, but other than that, it is silent. I'm not moving. Can I move? My eyes focus on the spout in front of me. The hue changes from a green then slowly to an orange and back. Why? Part of me is concerned, the other part just doesn't even care. I take a deep breath and suddenly it's back to normal. My thoughts and questions are random and scattered. Though, life outside this bath is chaotic, too.

My fingers are now wrinkled. I hear a loud gargle as I release the drain, and the shock of the cold air reaches my arms and legs. It's time to get out. It's time to unlock the door and face my life outside. It's time to organize this chaos and get back to reality. My reality, my chaos, my life.

A Day in the Life

Well, here I am. I have been blessed with another day, and if you're reading this now, then you were, too - congratulations! Welcome back.

As I am writing this right now, I am sitting on my cozy couch, three days post chemotherapy #5. My fashionable attire consists of black and pink fuzzy socks, my favorite gray sweatpants (thank you TARGET!), a Magnolia t-shirt, a gray zip-up hoodie, and my fav cancer-friendly hat. All I can hear is the wind blowing the lingering leaves outside, the beagle slightly snoring, and the boiler in the basement stealing all my money as it keeps me toasty warm on this cold winter day.

I feel well-rested today, with the help of a late night Atavan to push me into that comatose state I so enjoy being in as I snuggle under my covers by 9pm. It was no later than 6:48am this morning, though, that I heard a gentle 'A-choo' followed by a much bigger 'A-thwew!'. A tiny pitter-patter escalated down the hallway and into my room. 'Mommy, I need a tissue'. L was awake and ready to start our day. After a wipe of her nose, and a quick trip to the potty, she climbed up into bed with me. We quietly talked about our sleeps while T was still dozing in his crib, and recalled what the plan was going to be for the day. But first, Fruit Loops.

Once we heard T waking up, L quickly rushed to his room to say 'good morning'. What sounded as a nice wakeup, turned into shouting and tears before I could even get up. Sometimes they can be so sweet, and other times just so very sour! Apparently, L took his sock off, something hit his head, and all was forgotten after a diaper change...Oh yeah, Fruit Loops!

We made our way into the kitchen for breakfast, when who should show up peering through the big, bay window, but Grammy! Thank goodness. L has school today, so Grammy picked her and T up this morning to have a much more exciting day than being cooped up in this house with me! Once a month, L's school has show & tell, which she is always so excited about. She always chooses to bring a stuffed animal with her, but she is always so proud and makes sure she remembers what their name is before heading out the door. Today is that special day. She decided to bring her beanie baby, 'Nibbler', with her. While she is at school for the morning, Grammy will take T to run some errands or go to the library.

I have the morning to myself. I always dreamed of this kind of day - staying in my pajamas, laying on the couch in silence, actually listening to and guiding the thoughts inside my head. Now that it's forced, though, it doesn't seem like that much fun. I miss my kids. I miss the background noise and chaos running around my house. As early as it felt waking up today with my girl, I love those cozy, quiet moments with her. How many more of those will I have before she's too grown to want to lay with her Mommy, or I am too sore to be able to cuddle with her? Sure, it's nice letting people help with your every day to-do's, but it's an even better feeling when you can get that control back and have the energy to take back the reins. Every week post-chemo, I dread not being able to do all that I can for my children and my family. I just need to remind myself that this state is only temporary. I am halfway through this round's fatigue, and I only have one more cycle left. One day at a time.

In the meantime, I will soak up every little moment I can, and embrace the little things that make up my most beautiful life. Sure, big trips and excursions, sports and dance classes, are good for anyone, but what really shapes your child is how they are loved. Let go of the pressure you face as a parent. Ignore that judgmental voice in your head questioning every decision you make. Slow down, listen to, and simply love your child. That is the most important thing you can do for them.

The Beginning of a New (Year's) Day

Today is January 1, 2019. It is New Year's Day...a day where many people begin new goals, make resolutions, absolve themselves of any negativity and bad habits in their lives. For some reason, people feel they need the start of a new year to have a 'clean slate' and to 'start fresh'. I suppose it makes sense...but I've never been one to make a solid 'New Year's resolution'. Sure, I've told myself that it's time to get in shape, eat healthy, and move more, but I think the timing just always lined up after stuffing my face with food for a month and receiving several discounted gym membership offers in the mail....

Lately, though, I've been taking things a bit slower, living one day at a time. For me, I don't know what each day is going to look or feel like. Instead, I've been creating a 'clean slate' and a 'fresh start' each and every day. If I'm having a bad day one day, whether it's pain or discomfort physically, or feeling sad or worried about my future, I have to remind myself that tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is always a new chance to wake up with a better mindset and to feel more refreshed. I feel grateful for my tomorrows. You really never know what tomorrow may bring you or who you may meet. Why wait for the new year to be more generous or to exercise? Why wait to slow down or practice saying 'no' every once in a while? If you really want to be this type of person that you envision for the new year, then just start it when the opportunity comes up! Don't wait. You never know what might get in the way of these goals down the road. Sometimes there may be speed bumps or detours, and sometimes you may never get there...

I have to say, I had a pretty eventful 2018. I closed up my home daycare and pursued a new endeavor in real estate, including coursework over the summer and passing my exam in October. I enjoyed many adventures with my little family of four including hikes, museums, the Ben & Jerry's factory, a flight down to Atlanta, a week on the Jersey shore, and lots of ice cream of course! I FINALLY got to see my childhood idol, Shania Twain, in concert in July (HUGE highlight in my life)!!! I also worked on my health by eating right and running more than I have ever run in my entire life! The year started off pretty great, and most of it was actually really fun! Sadly, it had a tough ending. I know I've said in previous posts that I am remaining positive through all of this, but reality is reality! Getting diagnosed with cancer sucks. It is not how I envisioned my year to end. Yes, I am happy that I was able to experience everything that I did earlier in the year, but no one will ever tell you that they are happy to throw cancer in the mix of everything else in their lives.

I wasn't planning on ending my real estate path after the exam...I had plans to work and start an actual career for myself. Now, that's all on the back burner until I get my health under control. I also wasn't planning to stop running...I had plans to finish my first half marathon. Now, I have to start training from the beginning again, whenever my heart can handle it after chemo is complete, I'm healed from my surgery, and radiation is done. There are things that I've missed out on, things that I wish I could say that I have done in 2018, that just never happened. Sure, there's always this year, and I hope that I can accomplish what I want in 2019, but that is simply not guaranteed. It's not guaranteed for anyone, because no one knows what tomorrow may bring.

In the big scheme of things, 2018 did not end as I wanted it to, and 2019 did not start like I wanted it to, but I have to say, today I am well, and I have high hopes for my tomorrow. Next week, I won't be feeling so great after Monday's infusion, but I need to take it one day at a time. I need to embrace the energy and appetite I have today. I need to take advantage of the quality time I have with my kids while I am able to get up off the couch to do a puzzle with them or take them to the library. I can't worry about next week, I need to appreciate today.

I made my 'resolution' to slow down back in October. I couldn't wait for the new year to be the person I wanted to be. I have always been the type to plan out my life years in advance and to rush through the small steps it takes to get to where I want to be. Now, I am working on living in the present. I am creating memories with my children now instead of worrying about where we are or what we will be doing years from now. Since my diagnosis, I've pushed myself to continue experiencing things outside of the hospital. We had a fantastic Wizard of Oz themed Halloween, went to the Blaze pumpkin festival, ate lots of food on Thanksgiving, visited with Santa in Sturbridge, took a train ride to the North Pole, spent quality time with friends, and enjoyed Christmas with all sides of our family. Cancer is not the journey I wanted to start last year, but it was not my only journey. I am proud of myself for not letting it get in the way of everything I could enjoy, and I am grateful that it pushed me to do things I wouldn't have otherwise done.

Even after this first course of treatment is complete, I hope to continue to feel pushed to experience things in the 'now'. No one knows for sure if 'five-years-from-now' will even exist for any of us, so we need to stop putting so many things off for next week, next month, or next year. Do it now. Call your friend you've been meaning to catch up with. Tell your loved ones you love them. Put your phone down and read a story to your child. Take a road trip. Be the person you want to be - today.